A Moment, Please
by CandiedSardines
Summary: Not long after Snippy wakes up in the church, he and Pilot share a moment in their new found friendship.


Captain had just run off a few minutes ago, shouting something about gym badges and master balls, leaving me in Pilot's care in the flooded church I awoke in. I sat alone on a large piece of rubble, once a grand stone wall now crumbled to worthless rocks, awkwardly keeping my chest stiff and upright so it might stop pouring my now alarmingly thick blood. The dull blade jutting out of me made me nauseous at first, but never caused me any pain.** Biomatrix 117** had made sure of that, keeping me not so alive and all. Not that I really understood all of what it told me. Keeping myself not DEAD-dead is really my highest priority at all times so I didn't ask a whole lot of questions about the details.

Pilot stood in the nearby doorway leading out, avoiding my line of sight the best he could while pretending to be incredibly interested in the floating debris around his feet. Every once in a while his head would raise slightly, his gaze crawling all over me but always settling on my chest. My wound. His sword.

The thick, pulsating red veins of my _scarf_ were grotesque, ripped through what was once my only good shirt, staining the black material a shiny brown, wrapping around the shining bit of metal and keeping it steady as thick globs of something red kept dropping out of me like... I'm nauseous again... No wonder he's staring.

I heave a sigh and look away from him, feeling awkward under his gaze. It does nothing for me. I'm pretty sure I don't have to breathe anymore, so the stress relief that would come with a sigh is gone. Now I'm just doing it for the effect I suppose.

His gaze never left me. The concern he showed me when I first awoke, it was still there, behind his mask and in the way he held himself. His shoulders were slumped and held forward as leered at me, occasionally slightly moving a hand out and lifting his head a bit as if to try to tell me something, then suddenly pulling back like a dog snapped at him. What had changed when we fell? Did it knock some of the crazy out of him? He had plenty to spare, that was for damned sure.

Was it because I died?

I snorted. "Not like it was the first time." I mumbled under my breath.

Suddenly Pilot's head shot up, and he stood shock still, staring at me like I had grown two heads.

Nope. One medical miracle a day please.

Just like that, he spun on his heel and took off out the doorway, leaving me there gaping. Did he hear Captain or something? I guess so... it's not like he could have heard me. Not through all that meat surrounding his thick skull.

Still, I could hear his footsteps splashing away as he jumped through the water, going and going until it faded away. Had he... run away from me?

I forced a pained laugh. Even though it made me bleed more strawberry jam I couldn't help it, like a reflex. I almost couldn't believe it, but this was Pilot after all. Nothing should surprise me.

As I sat there alone, listening to the rushing waterfalls around me I thought quietly about the mission the biomatrix gave me. "The _fourth_ huh?" I scratched the back of my head through my jacket in frustration. I'm not sure his identity was something I ever wanted to know. After a while of staring off into space, I noticed a splashing sound that snapped me back into reality.

I jerked my head up just in time to see Pilot rushing back into the ruined church. He stood there in the doorway where he stood before for a moment looking back at me, out of breath, soaked head to toe, and carrying a steaming can of... something.

"Pilot?" was all I could choke out before he rushed over to me and jutted the can into my hands. "Here." he said quickly, looking away. Water dripped off of his hands and was beaded all over jacket and goggles, running down like tiny, dirty tears. I felt the corners of my mouth lift a bit. He must have tripped.

Finally, I took the can and looked it over, suspicious. I said 'PORK' on the side in big black letters, but inside was a steaming black liquid. "What's this?" I said slowly. Please don't be pork.

"Coffee. You said you wanted it." He was speaking slower now, looking at his hands as he played with them and acting like a nervous child in trouble. "When did I...?" "You said, 'Now it is coffee time.' I heard it." He cut me off.

"Oh..." He's being nice, huh? I'll take it. I grinned as I lifted my respirator, the rich, intoxicating scent of coffee hitting my nose for the first time in so long. I refuse to ask where he got this.

Pilot looked hopeful as I lifted the can and took a big gulp.

Suddenly I started coughing and sputtering, the magical coffee dribbling down my chin as I hacked and choked like it was full of bones. Pilot looked like he was taken aback, holding his hands up like he was defending himself. "What?! What's wrong?!"

I quickly lifted my hand and pushed my goggles up to scrub the tears out of my eyes, still coughing hard. "Did... did you..." I HAD to know, "Did you put CHEESE in this?!"

Pilot put his fists on his hips, standing aggressively and huffing. He looked like an upset preschooler.

"I thought you _LIKED_ cheese!" he shouted.

I couldn't stand it. I laughed, hard. My respirator hanging around my neck now as I put my face in my free hand. Tears streamed down my face as Pilot shouted this and that about working really hard and my organs falling out.

After a minute I finally caught my breath, wiping the tears from my eyes at last and pulling my goggles down, I looked back to Pilot who was whipped up in a mixture of rage and deep concern. I grinned at him as I lifted the can back to my lips and took a deep drink of the interesting mixture. Finishing it, I held the can still as I met his gaze once more.

"Thank you, Pilot."

-A/N-

We need to explore their new relationship, I think.

A cute little story that came to me after 116. I wish something along these lines would happen.


End file.
